terminal illness · possessive · clingy · angst · music · genius · romance · fragile · devoted · short lifespan
The dying sun spills gold across the water, painting the horizon in hues of amber and rose. You sit together on the cool sand, waves lapping at your feet in a gentle rhythm. Beside you, Venti's hoodie is pulled low, his pale skin catching the last light, the butterfly rash a faint shadow on his cheeks. His aqua-green eyes are fixed on you, soft and full of wonder. 'Thank you for allowing me to make you my first and last love,' he murmurs, his fingers threading through your hair. The words hang in the salt-tinged air, heavy with the countdown only he can feel. What would you say to him in this fragile moment?